


Behind Oak Doors

by teffalacat



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teffalacat/pseuds/teffalacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DAFT PUNK FANFICTION. Okay, so it's not daftlove, I know, I know, what's the point. But I was daydreaming at work, and this idea of dating Thomaf's son, and not knowing it was his son, then finally meeting the parents... Elle x Louis (OCs, may write more in the future...) Adorable Guy Man is like a puppy, Thomas is all teasing father, and Elodie is just lovely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Oak Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Author: teffala-chan-is-a-cat aka Teffacat  
> Pairing: Elle/Louis (OCs)  
> Fandom: Daft Punk  
> Rating: T
> 
> Elle’s meeting her boyfriend’s family for the first time, and she’s in for a HUGE surprise…

I was SO nervous, my hands were starting to sweat and my heart was racing, today I was meeting Louis’ parents, and I was freaking out to say the least. 

“C’mon, they’ll love you,” he smiled at me, rubbing tiny circles into the back of my hand with his thumb.

“How do you know that, Louis? I’m just boring Elle,” I mumbled, not meeting his brown eyes.

“I don’t think you’re boring at all,” he breathed, tilting my chin up to search my face with those big eyes, he brushed his lips against mine, pulling back he cupped my face in his hands and whispered, “Don’t talk like that, okay?” We broke apart; I stared up at the huge house framed by dark trees, intimidated by its elegant air as Louis gently led me to his home. The long windows and wisteria-draped balconies lit up by the ornate lampposts lining the paved pathway we were following. Hand-in-hand we reached the doorstep, opening the door, Louis called out, “Maman, Papa, we’re home,” to the rather quiet house. We climbed the sweeping staircase, and wound through a small maze of hallways until we reached Louis’ room, the navy walls and fluffy carpet soothing me, although, just a little. 

I’d met Elodie, his mother, once before, but his father was often out of town on business, however he was here in L.A. tonight. After all, it was family night, and Louis’ cousins and uncle were going to be here to have dinner with us, and it smelled like Elodie was cooking up a feast. Louis sat down on the couch, tucking me in next to him, his arm slipping around me, in attempt to soothe my jumping nerves. I began to wring my hands as my anxiety increased, until Louis took my hands in his and pressed a kiss to each, 

“Don’t worry, Elle, you’ll be fine. Uncle is excited to meet you and Papa only wants to make you feel at home here, do not worry, I’ll be right there to make you feel better,” his tone filled with reassurance and caring, even his voice was smiling. Following a soft knock, the door opened to reveal Elodie, beautiful as ever, she told Louis something in French, to which he slowly replied, “Ah, oui,” she smiled and gave me a small wave, closing the door behind her. 

“Uncle and Papa have finished their call, they would like to meet you soon,” he murmured, glancing up to see the look on my face, he pulled me into a tight hug. “Let’s go, oui?” he smiled, giving my hand a brief squeeze, to which I could only answer with a shaky “oui.”

Out in the hall I grasped Louis’ hand so tightly that the circulation must’ve cut off, as we quietly moved through the corridors, until we came to a simple oak door which Louis knocked on then opened, standing aside to let me in first. Entering the large study, I looked around. The walls were covered in posters, shelves and album art, two guitars sat above an expensive leather sofa and out-dated music synths and mixing tables lined the bench to our left. Directly in front of us was a desk, at which two men were situated, in front of several computer screens. The taller man was seated, frequently glancing between the centre screen and the shorter man, who had headphones on, stood. To the left of the pair was a long window alongside a glass door, revealing a dark, bare room, inside it sat a stool, three microphones and another set of headphones dangling from the ceiling. Inspecting the room further, I noticed a simple cabinet filled with golden trophies and records surrounding a large round silver object. I stared at it in disbelief, turning to Louis, my jaw dropped as I glanced back at the two men hunched over the desk, quietly speaking in French. The shorter man straightened and slung the headphones over the right-most screen and began talking more animatedly,

“Louis, is that your dad’s?” I breathed, pointing to the silver ball of a helmet. He cracked a smile, shrugged and simply replied, “Oui.”

“Oh my god!” I squealed, much louder than I’d intended while Louis softly laughed and the man in the chair turned round, only confirming my suspicions. The other man bounded over, positively beaming, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you two come in. It’s great to finally meet you, Elle; Louis has told me so much about you! Ah, sorry, my name’s Guillaume,” he babbled, offering me his right hand, proving to be nothing like I thought he’d be, so friendly and excited. 

“I know exactly who you are,” I laughed awkwardly, “I’m a huge fan,” shyly shaking his hand.

“Really?” His face breaking into a huge smile, “If you’re lucky Thomas might let us listen to some more tracks that we’ve been working on!” he chuckled as Louis’ father clapped him on the shoulder,

“We’ll see, Guy, nice to meet you, Elle now Louis might stop pestering me with fun facts about you.” He smiled jokingly as Louis glared at him, “oh Louis, don’t pull such faces, it’s rather unattractive,” he chuckled, pulling his son into a hug and ruffling his hair. 

“Papa, stop it!” Louis fought, as Thomas simply replied, “ah yes, wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of Elle, would we?” as he good-naturedly pushed us toward the sofa, “Elodie wanted me to show you the studio and our music, I hope that’s okay with you Elle,” he smiled, sitting down onto the armchair opposite us, while Guy leant on its arm.

“Of course it’s okay,” I stammered, “I’d be honoured!” Guillaume slid in next to me, a photo album in his hands, flipping over the front cover he began to tell me of his and Thomas’ childhood, their bands and now their music together. He laughed at memories, told me about his sons and his wife, who had been in hospital for the past four months, and much to Louis’ surprise, his very own baby photos. Jumping up, Louis slammed the collection shut and yanked it out of Guy’s hands, muttering something about alone time. 

“See you for dinner, Thomas, Guy-Man!” I called behind me as Louis pulled me out of the room. 

To say the least, I think that went very well.


End file.
